


Still our hands match

by Trustmeimahealer



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Mild Smut, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-01 10:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15772581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trustmeimahealer/pseuds/Trustmeimahealer
Summary: Isabella wishes to make amends.Will Charlotte let her?





	1. Chapter 1

Charlotte’s heart was not empty. Her mother lived, her sister was saved, her business was thriving. 

 

Her lover had betrayed her to save a rapist and a murderer. 

 

Charlotte’s heart was full, indeed, but not of relief or hope. Charlotte was filled with an unnameable anger, a storm that soured inside of her until she could barely see with such rage. The girls in the house had noticed, the displaced aggression with rowdy culls or the uncharacteristic snappiness with Lucy or Jacob. 

 

Three weeks had passed since the Lady Isabella had left them and Charlotte looked about ready to blow at the next unsuspecting cull who may annoy her. Nancy and her Pa had tried many a time to snap Charlotte out of her disposition, yet neither nancy’s stern words nor her Pa’s gentle guidance had made any difference. Charlotte even refused to talk to Lucy about it when she had asked, preferring to tell her younger sister to mind her own business. Charlotte hated it, hated how cold she had become but it was as if Isabella was always under skin even as she had no contact with her.

 

Yet here Charlotte was, at the door of the woman who betrayed her. The door of the woman she once thought she could have loved. 

 

It had been a shock to receive the message to Queen Street, demanding her presence. It had taken both Nancy and Lucy hours to calm her down enough to even consider it, Charlotte could scarcely believe that Isabella would have the cheek to summon her like that. If anything it should be Isabella coming to Greek Street herself, to beg Charlotte’s forgiveness (which Charlotte would refuse) and let them all move forward at last. 

 

Then again, Isabella had indeed sought her out. Perhaps this could be the apology Charlotte felt she needed to put the whole sorry affair behind her. 

 

Charlotte doesn’t even need to knock at the door before it opens, a familiar face greeting her. 

 

“Abigail?” Charlotte can hardly believe the difference in the girl, now well rested and safe from the horrors she experienced at Quigley’s.

 

“The Lady Fitz gave me employment as compensation for her brother’s crimes.” Abigail scowls at her for a moment before gathering herself. “She is a very gracious lady.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Well? Is she here? Or have I been summoned to an empty house?” 

Abigail fixes her an unimpressed look before stepping aside from the door to lead Charlotte through the house. “The Lady will see you in the parlor.” 

Charlotte enters the room and is reminded, oddly, of the rooms in Golden Square. The colors are a little less garish, more blues and purples than gold, and the furniture is obviously very real and very old. There is more art upon the walls, landscapes of the countryside and uncomfortable looking portraits of distant ancestors. A tall, wide mirror takes up much of the back wall, Charlotte sees herself reflected and immediately straightens her back. She sees her own unsure expression and wonders why exactly she was ever convinced this may be a good idea, even if Isabella wished to apologize. 

The door opens and Charlotte feels uncharacteristically exposed in the open space like the furniture would come alive and consume her if she did not tread carefully. 

Isabella isn’t wearing her wig when she enters, her hair falls long and curly over her shoulders. Charlotte only saw her like this a couple of times, very early in the morning. After their first night together Charlotte had brushed it through and ran her hands through it for what must have been over an hour, helping her secure each piece of hair into the wig. She looks warm, comfortable, and Charlotte can’t help but feel a little at ease even as her heart weighs heavy at the sight of her. 

“I was not sure if you would come.” Isabella’s voice is as smooth as ever, Charlotte can’t bear to even look at her.

“Neither was I.” 

Isabella walks toward her, footsteps light against the wooden floor, Charlotte chances at a glance as she approaches. There’s a lightness to her that wasn’t there when they had met, Isabella almost seems carefree, her face more animated even as she looks at Charlotte with concern. Charlotte feels her blood boil.  “I am sorry for the way things happened.” 

Charlotte steps back, putting distance back between them. “Do you mean when you chose to protect your brother even as he has been sanctioning the rape and murder of young girls?” 

Isabella pauses, scorned. “I am sorry for betraying your trust.” 

Charlotte storms forward now, slightly over-aware of the fact that she’s dancing around the room as Isabella stays still. “Betraying my trust? I took you in, deprived my father some of precious few hours he had left with my mother so we could save your daughter, did my best to protect you and your daughter even as your  _ villain _ of a brother threatened me and then when I asked for your trust in me you went behind my back!” Charlotte raised her voice, incensed. 

“I could not rely on you to keep us safe while you were on a vendetta of revenge.” Isabella’s voice is calm and even, Charlotte hates it. “You were not there when Sophia was taken, Harcourt would have ruined her that evening if he wasn’t stopped.” 

Charlotte recoils, grabbing the arm of a chair to keep herself from attacking the woman, nails scratching the expensive fabric. “We had a plan!” She yells, hot angry tears rolling down her cheeks. “Fallon would have signed the confession and they would all have been damned!”

Isabella shakes her head, her own tears falling as she fights to keep her composure. “My daughter would have been damned herself by then.” Isabella sighs and approaches Charlotte, carefully, as if she were a wild animal. “I had to keep her safe first Charlotte. I did what I felt I had to do.” Charlotte calms a little, and Isabella reaches out to touch her, relief washes over both of them as Charlotte accepts the touch, a hand on top of her own. 

“I was not on a vendetta.” Charlotte’s voice is still tense, but she does not tear her hand away. 

“You were. I didn’t understand it then, I thought you were being selfish.” Isabella grips tighter at the wave of Charlotte’s indignation. “But I know now. The things we do for our families do not always make sense.” 

Charlotte looks at her intensely, as if trying to read her soul. “Tell me the only reason you did it was to save Sophia.” 

Isabella frowns. “Why else?”

“To protect him. To protect your brother.” It lasts a mere second, but Charlotte catches the shadow of guilt in her eyes as Isabella averts her gaze. For such an excellent hustler, she was always a terrible liar. 

Charlotte jerks her hand away enraged once more and Isabella chases her in desperation. “Please understand.”

“What of this can be understood?” Charlotte paces, a sickness in her stomach. “He is a monster and you would let him roam free.”

Isabella shakes her head, unable to explain herself. “He is a monster, but he’s my brother. You must understand that for all of his faults he was all that I had for all of those years.”

Charlotte looks at her as if she has grown another head. “Faults? He isn’t just a bad gambler or a cheat. He is a rapist!” 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Isabella shouts, unable to stay composed under the heat of Charlotte’s rage. “I hate that couldn’t damn him the way he had damned me! No matter how much I wanted to, I could not see him hang!” 

“Yet he would have thrown you into Bedlam? Raped your daughter? Killed me?” Charlotte can feel her eyes burning, feel her whole face as if it were on fire, Isabella stands as still as a statue. 

“I am not him.” 

Charlotte scowls. “Then you are weak.” She can’t restrain the snarl as it leaves her, she stalks after Isabella like prey, so close to her now that they share breath. “I could have forgiven you for betraying me if it were for Sophia. I cannot forgive you if it were for him.”

Charlotte’s voice is cold, Isabella is reminded distantly of the rages of her brother. Harcourt had a habit of using his physicality against her, whether it be through bruises or uncomfortable caresses. He always made sure to remind her of his ability to overpower her. Charlotte was so close to her now, a feral look in her eyes, Isabella was grateful of the restraint. “It was for Sophia.” Isabella watches Charlotte’s jaw clench and for a blessed momen,t she looks so pretty and so young in her anger that Isabella has to fight the urge to kiss her. “It was for you too.”

Charlotte’s expression sours, she spins away like a wisp of smoke before Isabella can catch her. “Don’t you dare say you let him go for me. Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“I made him swear your safety. I wouldn’t have told him a thing if I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t hurt you.” Isabella tries.

“He couldn’t have hurt anyone if he were hanging from the gallows.” Charlotte shakes her head, fighting the waves of fury that hold her. Somewhere beneath the red haze, she’s a little concerned she may be scaring Isabella; the older woman almost cowers away from her now, watching warily. Charlotte wonders if Isabella thinks she may hurt her. She wonders even more whether she thinks she should.

“I couldn’t face the risk.” 

Charlotte watches her a moment, more sad than angry. “Then you can thank your cowardice for the blood on your hands.” 

“You hood too much faith in a law which does not care for you, Charlotte.” A dark cloud shadows Isabella’s face and for a moment Charlotte feels a distinct churning of fear in her gut. “You have allowed a young girl to be forsaken by my brother once before because you held too much faith in your scheming and laws which exist only to protect the already powerful. I could not allow my daughter to follow the same fate.”

“What happened to only blaming your brother for what happened to Abigail?” Charlotte asks, her tongue feeling like a razor blade.

“I don’t blame you, but you made a choice to risk her safety so that you could try to end a greater evil. Understand I could not take that gamble for the safety of my own daughter.” Isabella slumps a little and in her heels, Charlotte almost looks taller than her in the reflection of the mirror. Charlotte doesn’t think she’s ever seen her so defeated.

Charlotte approaches her, a heavyweight in her chest, no longer alight in anger. “So who did you do it for? Sophia? Me? The Marquess?”

Isabella looks up at her, the deep blue of her eyes more exhausted than ever. “Charlotte, I do not know the answer to that question.”

Charlotte sighs and offers a sad, weary smile. “That is because you did it for yourself.” 

Charlotte leans forward and places a bitter kiss upon Isabella’s forehead before turning on her heel. “Charlotte, wait!” Isabella’s voice cracks as Charlotte storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  
  


Charlotte ignores Isabella’s cries as she leaves, giving Abigail a cursory glance as she opens the door. Perhaps she didn’t have a heart after all. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's where the fun begins!
> 
>  
> 
> Isabella isn't giving up so easily....

It had been six days since Charlotte had faced Isabella. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders; she had purged her anger, left it at Lady Isabella Fitzwilliam’s door like a Christmas gift. 

 

Isabella had tried to summon her back almost immediately, Charlotte almost pitied the poor lad sent to deliver her messages. He almost looked as sick of it as she felt. 

 

It was as if nothing had ever happened between them for Charlotte now, she understood now what she could not before. The rich and the powerful will always serve each other before they will serve anyone else. Even Isabella, who had been so awfully abused by those with power, would sooner see her brother free than see poor girls saved. 

 

If she thought about it for too long, her blood would boil again. 

 

Charlotte preferred to simply push it to the back of her mind, along with the very real tension and longing she had felt when she had seen the other woman again. Very, very far to the back of her mind. 

 

Charlotte sat in her office, counting out the spoils of the day. She had always hated doing this with her Ma, hated the budgeting and the planning involved. Lucy helped every now and again but it was largely one of those jobs that painfully reminded Charlotte of the absence of her mother, of the responsibility she now had as a bawd. 

 

There was a knock at the door, Charlotte didn’t turn as it opened assuming it would be Lucy asking if she would be down for dinner.

“Charlotte, Lady Fitz is here.” It’s her Pa’s voice, exasperated already. 

Charlotte turns with a scowl. “Then turn her away, I have nothing to say to her.” 

William sighs and rubs his temples. “I have tried this several times already. Every time I close the door she starts knocking again.” Charlotte opens her mouth to speak but he shoots her a weary look. “I’m afraid she’ll start making a scene if we don’t let her in.”

Charlotte scowls. “I’ll make a scene if you do.” 

It's an idle threat and they both know it, Jacob is asleep and the girls need their rest for the next day. Charlotte may have a temper, but she’s a considerate bawd. William sighs deeply. “She will not leave until she has seen you.”

Charlotte lets out a long weary breath and holds her head in her hands, fighting against her frustration. “Then let her in.” 

William leaves and Charlotte feels hyper-aware of the noise of the house; her Pa’s footsteps down the hall, the front door opening, the quiet murmuring of warning. Charlotte feels her back tense with each step Isabella takes toward the door, the door handle rattles as it’s opened. Charlotte turns back to the desk as if burned by Isabella’s presence. 

“You’re a very hard woman to contact when you want to be.” 

Charlotte didn’t turn. “I have nothing I wish to hear from you.” 

Isabella sighs and steps further into the room, moving to sit on the chaise longue. “You left so suddenly. I did not get to tell you all that I intended.” 

“You think it will make a difference?” Charlotte turns to look at her, Isabella’s wig looks a little ridiculous in the pokey office. Charlotte wonders what she would do if it were torn from her head. 

Isabella looks back at her, visibly irritated. Charlotte remembers that their last conversation in this room had been the one that had started it all. The one where Charlotte refused to help. 

Isabella’s jaw clenches, Charlotte’s eyes are drawn to the movement, she's sat a little closer than is strictly necessary. Charlotte is no fool, she knows the attraction is there between them, sparked once more by Isabella’s frostier disposition. Then Charlotte glances up to that ridiculous fucking wig and forgets all about it. 

“I have a proposition for you.” Isabella’s voice and expression are completely calm, it frustrates Charlotte so much she isn’t sure whether she needs to kiss her or slap her. 

“I swear if you ask to buy me, I will kill you,” Charlotte mutters, offended at the mere idea of it. 

“Not as such.” Isabella remains calm, even under the heat of Charlotte’s stare. “But I have been thinking, about what you said. I thought to protect you and Sophia was enough.” 

“Get to the point.” 

“I’m buying Queen Street.” Isabella looks at her solidly, no fear or apprehension. “All of it.”

Charlotte frowns, the beginning of a tension headache forming in her skull. “Did the Marquess even give you enough for the whole street?”

Isabella straightens her back, a coy smile on her lips. “It’s wonderful what price a man will put on his freedom and his good name.” 

Charlotte glares at her before turning back to the desk, head in her hands, unable to process the information. “Why?”

Isabella leans back for a moment, trying her best to be selective with her words. “I wanted to make your lives easier. Rent is one less thing to worry about.”

Charlotte looks back at Isabella with a cynical expression. “So long as I’m in your good graces?”

Isabella shakes her head. “I’m sure you will pay anyway. But if you ever need a reprieve, like you have these dark days after your mother’s passing, I will always grant it.”

Charlotte turns fully, and Isabella is momentarily taken aback, the young woman looking so vulnerable in front of her. Isabella has to fight every urge to not reach out to her. “If you have ever cared for me, you will not do this.” 

Isabella freezes, perplexed. “Why?” 

Charlotte looks at her a moment, as if seeing her for the first time. Another controlling cull. “You don’t want to buy my body, but you’ll buy my business? I cannot be at your mercy. My Ma fought hard for this, I will not have you buy it on a whim use it to manipulate me into forgiving you!” 

Charlotte leans back into the chair, as far away from Isabella as she could bear to be. Isabella missed her instantaneously. “If I am not mistaken, your mother sold both you and your sister for this roof above your heads.” Charlotte scowled and Isabella was quick to intercept before the younger woman tore her to pieces. “I wish only to protect any other young women who find their way into this house from the same fate.” 

Charlotte gets up so fast Isabella thinks she’s been struck by an invisible force. “Get out.” Charlotte’s voice is hoarse, her eyes a type of wild that Isabella knows not to provoke. 

Isabella stands, smoothing out her skirt. “I’ll go.” 

Charlotte backs away to the wall as Isabella passes her, shooting her an unbearably cold glare. 

Isabella pauses at the door frame. “Please think about it. I wish only to help.” 

Charlotte holds her breath until she hears Isabella leave the front door. In one intense rush, the fury and indignation she had just barely kept below the surface, overwhelms her. She slams her fist onto the desk, rattling the towers of coins she had stacked earlier. 

So much for a clean break. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte is left with a choice.

It took twenty minutes before there was another knock on the door. Charlotte was half tempted to rip the bloody thing off its hinges.

 

She doesn’t reply, hoping whoever it is will have assumed she’s in a different room.

 

It’s Nancy that opens the door and Charlotte feels a wave of relief upon seeing her face, all sharp angles and soft eyes. 

 

“I thought I’d give you a bit of space after she left.” There’s an amusement to Nancy’s tone that Charlotte wouldn’t tolerate coming from anyone else.

 

“I take it that everyone heard.” Charlotte huffs.

 

“Lucy listened at the door. She told me and your Pa, no one else.” Nancy explains, leaning back against the door frame like some suave pirate captain. Charlotte is reminded for a moment of how much she had adored Nancy as a child, no man could ever have cut such a dashing figure. “That being said, we all agree that you should accept the offer.”

 

Charlotte felt as if her eyes would pop out of her head. “Accept? What about all Ma,”

 

Nancy cut her off. “This is exactly the type of thing your Ma has hoped for in finding you a wealthy keeper. She may not have picked Lady Fitz but she has the means and she’s clearly infatuated with you.”

 

Charlotte shook her head, glancing around the room as if to find strength. “She’s not merely keeping me, she’s trying to keep all of us!”

 

Nancy sighs and gives Charlotte a weary look. “Then draw up a contract with her, use her softness for you to get all that you need to be secure.”  Nancy makes her way toward Charlotte, placing two firm hands upon her shoulders. “Come on Charlotte, you know better than this. You know her weaknesses.”

 

Charlotte turns away, a little sickened. It was true, she could manipulate Isabella easily. Isabella was almost desperate for touch, it was the one thing only Charlotte could provide her. Yet the idea of using that weakness against her made her stomach churn uncomfortably, the heat if indignation rising up her neck. “I don’t know if I can.”

 

Nancy looks at her as if she’s grown another head. “Yes, you can. You’re not in love with her or something stupid, are you?”

 

Charlotte bristles. “She’s a spoiled brat, of course, I’m not.” 

 

Nancy gives her a withering look and shakes her head. “You cannot do this if you’re still soft on her.”

 

“I’m not!” Nancy doesn’t shrink under Charlotte's glare.

 

Nancy nods and gives her a tight smile. “Then go to her and make the deal.”

 

Charlotte frowns, confused. “Right now?”

 

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Tomorrow night, when her Ladyship is well rested and has enough time to think she has lost you.”

 

Nancy steps back with a serious expression. Charlotte turns away from her to eye up the money on the desk, they were doing well at the moment, but it was true that business was never going to be regular. Perhaps the security Isabella could provide would be the difference that saved them in the future. “You’re right.” 

 

Nancy nods and kisses her on the forehead with a warmth Charlotte felt immediately comforted by. “That's my girl.”   

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Charlotte barely sleeps that night, running the conversation over and over in her head. Isabella is self-serving to her core, it was likely that if she had power over Charlotte it would only be a matter of time before she flexed it in some way or another. It wasn’t wise to be at someone else’s mercy. 

 

Nancy was right, she had to gain as much control as she could. Isabella was as easy a target as she could have wished for. 

 

If only Charlotte didn’t feel her heart sting at the idea of hurting her. 

 

She sends a message to Isabella that morning, letting her know of her impending arrival. While Nancy was right about Isabella being more vulnerable if left to stew on their argument, it felt superfluously cruel to Charlotte. Isabella would have to be strong for it to feel right, otherwise, Charlotte may as well be abusing her too. 

 

Charlotte shakes the thought out of her mind as she approaches the house. Isabella deserved this, Charlotte reminded herself as she knocks on the door. 

 

Abigail opens the door and looks at Charlotte suspiciously. 

 

“She’s expecting me,” Charlotte explains, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. 

 

“I know.” Abigail opens the door, but her expression remains. She grabs Charlotte’s arm on her way through the door. “The Lady came back awfully upset last night.” Her voice is a hushed whisper and Charlotte finds herself a little intimidated. “If you wish her harm, it would be better for you to leave.” 

 

Charlotte takes it for the threat it is and nods. “I wish only for what is right.” 

 

Abigail looks at her a moment, grip softening. “Good.” She lets go and steps back to close the door. “She’s in the parlor.” 

 

Charlotte sighs and makes her way through to the parlor alone, taking a deep shaky breath as she enters. 

 

Isabella is stood in the middle of the room, her hair up in that pretentious wig, she looks primed for war. Charlotte internally praises every god that she does not look as soft or as welcoming as she had the last time they had met in this room. 

 

“Hello, Charlotte.” She turns to face her, a calm smile on her face. Charlotte wonders how she can still be so polite, even now. 

 

Charlotte smiles as warmly as she can muster. “I’m sorry for making you leave last night.” The words feel heavy and foreign in her mouth, she prays Isabella doesn’t notice. 

 

Isabella’s eyebrows shoot to her forehead, clearly taken aback. She shrugs off her surprise and smiles warmly.  “You never need to apologize to me.” She moves to a soft chair in the center of the room. There’s a regal air to her movements that Charlotte isn’t sure is irritating or enchanting. “Am I to assume you’ve had second thoughts about my offer?”

 

Charlotte fights back a snarky remark at Isabella’s coy questioning. She forces as sweet a smile as she can muster. “I was brash to refuse. I’ve had time to think now and I’d like to discuss it with a clear head.” 

 

Isabella sits down and gestures toward the seat next to her. “Please.” Her eyes follow Charlotte as she sits, lips quirked as if she’s fighting back a smile. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Charlotte feels an unwelcome rush of affection toward her at that moment, she’s never seen Isabella so hopeful before. She leans toward her despite herself. “Perhaps, if you would like to stay for dinner we can discuss the finer details?”

 

Charlotte smiles a little too easily. “I’d love that.” 

 

Isabella almost looks giddy. “I’ll let Abigail know to tell the cook.” 

 

Isabella gets up and Charlotte feels a wave of dizziness as soon as she’s out of sight. Isabella seems so eager to please, Charlotte wonders if she would simply agree to any demands right there and then. However it was a delicate operation, Isabella may buy Queen Street and evict them if she is angered before they get anything in writing. Charlotte feels sick; she still resents Isabella, doesn’t even vaguely trust her yet to manipulate her feelings to callously feels cruel. As much as Charlotte hates her, there was a time she thought she could love Isabella. 

 

Charlotte looks at her own reflection in the mirror, so pale she can barely recognize herself. She touches her dress, the fine material reminding her more of Lydia Quigley and Golden Square than the home she was trying to protect. She had charmed Isabella one before, pressed upon her weaknesses at Lydia’s bidding, she could do it again. She glances around the room, the opulent furnishings, and rich colors, how could any just deal leave Isabella with this while her girls were in danger? 

 

Charlotte meets her reflection's eyes. This was for her family. This was for revenge. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who has been commenting, the support means the world to me!
> 
> I think its quite important to remember that Isabella and Charlotte are coming from very different places when they address their problems and what feels like a logical decision to Isabella feels like a kick in the teeth to Charlotte. 
> 
> Next chapter will be from Isabella's POV 
> 
> hit me up on my tumblr http://time-to-girl-the-hell-up.tumblr.com if you feel like screaming at me


	4. chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have dinner and Isabella is thirsty af  
> we also get a little insight into how Isabella is feeling about everything that's happened

Isabella thinks she might be dreaming. The whole ordeal with Charlotte had been so strange, the heat of her anger so intense, it was hard to believe that all had been forgiven so quickly. Of course, Charlotte had not actually said that she had forgiven her, but she was here in her pretty dress, a faint dusting of rouge upon her cheeks and lips, agreeing to have dinner with her. 

 

When Isabella had returned to the parlor there had been a change in Charlotte’s demeanor, a certain intensity to her gaze even as she asked the most innocuous questions about Sophia or Abigail or how she was finding St James. Isabella couldn’t quite decide whether Charlotte was preparing to kill her or seduce her. 

 

Even now as they sat for dinner, Charlotte opposite her, Isabella felt under an intense scrutiny. 

 

“I think we ought to get down to business.”  Charlotte’s voice is a little lower than usual. Isabella chokes on the double entendre, eyes widening. Charlotte smiles knowingly around her wine glass as she takes a sip and Isabella berates herself for acting like a schoolgirl. “The tenancy.” Her eyes sparkle with an affection Isabella wishes she could bottle. 

 

“Of course.” Isabella smiles, pausing as Abigail sets down their meals. “Thank you.” She murmurs, Abigail nods and leaves the room with a sweet sort of half curtsey. 

 

Charlotte watches on with wry amusement. “Shall I curtsey too?”

 

Isabella shoots her a playful glare. “You shall do no such thing. I asked her to address me more formally in front of certain guests, but I don’t believe she’s gotten the hang of it yet.” 

 

Charlotte nods carefully. “What do these guests think of you buying a whole street for a single brothel?” The question is pointed, colder than before, Isabella tries her best not to flinch. 

 

“Land ownership is the only form of income I can procure for Sophia. No one would bother to ask which particular street I decided to buy.” Isabella explains carefully, trying to stay strong under the heat of her gaze. 

 

“You didn’t mention that you were doing this for Sophia before.” Charlotte’s words are clipped, her mouth barely moving as she speaks. 

 

“I could have bought a different street.” Isabella points out, a little defensive. 

 

“Why didn’t you?” It feels more like an accusation than a question, Isabella feels a hot rush of embarrassment despite herself. 

 

“Because I wanted to help you. I thought this would be the best way to offer you both some security if something were to happen to me.” 

 

Charlotte’s gaze does not waver. “What if I am no longer there? Will my family and my business matter less?”

Isabella shakes her head resolutely. “Your family and the young women under that roof did more for me than my own family ever did. I let them down as much as I had let you down, I intend for this arrangement to benefit them too.” 

 

Charlotte softens a little at the explanation, she looks down at her food with a slight smile. Isabella almost sinks back into her chair with relief, Charlotte looks back up at her with a warm sparkle in her eyes that makes Isabella wish she was brave enough to simply jump over the table and kiss her. She shakes the thought from her mind, it would do no good to hope of such things. 

 

“I haven’t had beef since I left Quigley's.” Charlotte’s voice, already one of Isabella’s favorite sounds, is so soft and sweet that she wonders if it is possible to fall in love with a person for their voice alone. As if there aren’t plenty of other things to fall in love with Charlotte for.

 

“There’s plenty more if you like it. Sophia is dining at a school pal’s house tonight, so we have more than enough.” 

 

Charlotte smiles and shakes her head politely. “I’m fine, thank you. Too much meat gives me an awful pain.”

 

Isabella regards her for a moment, wishing they could live together like this. Wishing she could know what food Charlotte liked and how she liked it and whatever else she could know about the younger woman. Isabella felt almost greedy, wanting everything at once. 

 

They eat in a companionable silence for a few minutes, sharing fleeting glances and gentle smiles. The meal is not large, and Charlotte eats as if half starved. Isabella wonders if Charlotte had much chance to eat since the death of her mother, the bones in her face are a little more angular than they were before, her jaw a fraction sharper. Isabella feels a wash of guilt at the thought that she played any role in adding to that stress, in causing Charlotte any pain at all. 

 

She wishes she could fully regret the decision. She had lain awake in her bed almost every night since, recounting the ways it could have gone better, but she could think of no better solution. Charlotte’s plan could so easily have gone awry, or even if it had succeeded they may have been too late to save Sophia. The Lord Justice was under Quigley’s thumb, too easily corrupted, it could have taken at least a day to convince him to arrest Harcourt even with Fallon’s confession. Charlotte was nowhere to be seen when Quigley's men arrived, too busy chasing Fallon to protect them when they were most vulnerable. Isabella knew Charlotte would have tried her best at any other time, but it had felt like a betrayal. Charlotte, the only person who Isabella had thought truly cared, didn’t care enough to keep them safe. She felt awful now, but at the time it had felt like justice.

 

She shakes the thought from her mind. Charlotte was here now and Isabella had found her own safety, no longer needing so much from her. They could be equals now, or close to at least,  Isabella offering Charlotte the only form of security she could. She had considered buying Charlotte the building, signing the deed in her name, but the Wells family is a proud one and she doubted Charlotte would accept it. This way Charlotte could keep her independence but also not feel as if Isabella was trying to buy her off. At least, that is what Isabella hopes. 

 

Charlotte’s plate is nearly empty and Isabella realizes she has been staring at her own food in thought for quite a while. Charlotte is looking at her with amusement, dapping the corner of her mouth with a napkin in a way that should be nowhere near as mesmerizing as it is. 

 

Isabella blushes and resumes eating, wishing for a moment that she could court someone who didn’t always make her feel like such a schoolgirl. 

 

Charlotte’s expression turns more serious for a moment, a silent storm passing across her features, dancing in the blue of her eyes. Isabella is about to ask what is wrong when Charlotte shakes her head, almost imperceptibly, fixing her a charming smile. “I wonder, perhaps, if we could get the arrangements for the tenancy in writing.” Charlotte’s voice is a little husky from her silence, Isabella can’t help but adore it. “So that both parties are clear on what is expected from them.” 

 

“Yes, of course.” Isabella smiles warmly, setting down her cutlery on her plate. “Shall we retire to the study?” 

 

Charlotte nods and takes a rather large swig of her wine before moving to stand up, Isabella follows her until they reach the doorway and Charlotte stops, leaning against the door frame. “I suppose you ought to show me the way.” 

 

There’s a suggestion in her words that Isabella hasn’t the bravery to describe. An intense look passes between them as Isabella moves past her. Charlotte looks so pretty like this; candlelight dancing across her face, lips ever so slightly parted, her eyes so dark they seem a stormy bluish grey. Isabella chances a glance downward, for just a second, at the smooth skin of her chest, golden in this light. Charlotte clears her throat and Isabella looks back up, caught, her lip between her teeth and a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck. 

 

“The study?” Charlotte reminds her, helpful given the blank state of isabella’s mind. 

 

“Yes.” Isabella moves as quickly as she can given the length of her skirt and the height of her shoes, trying to stay as graceful as possible as she leads them through the house. 

 

It seemed this evening would only become stranger.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the lovely comments! the chapter after this is nearly done so you should get another update really soon :)


	5. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I know nothing about Regency era property law and tenancy agreements so I apologize if my made up shit is very obviously wrong. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The study is not quite as she would have chosen, all browns and blacks and golds, a rather unflattering portrait of her father and mother hanging above the desk. Her father had used this house for his business affairs in the city, the room reeked of his sensibility,  the dark woods and gold accents felt both lavish and austere in a way Isabella could never quite make sense of. She had always hated this room on the few occasions she had been in. Now she was embarrassed just to be associated with it. 

 

Isabella watches Charlotte glance around the room, gaze landing on the portrait. “Are they your parents?” The question holds no judgment. 

 

“Yes,  I can assure you they weren’t so ugly in person.” Charlotte barks out a laugh at the reply and Isabella feels a swell of pride. 

 

“I had guessed.” Charlotte looks at her suggestively,  eyeing her up as if a prize cut of meat. Isabella would be incensed if it were anyone else. 

 

Isabella clears her throat in an effort to fight the blush burning her cheeks. Charlotte watches her closely, eyes dropping to Isabella’s lips in a way which made her wonder if Charlotte was about to kiss her. 

 

Their eyes met and Isabella swore there were tiny sparks of lightning in Charlotte’s eyes. She felt a low churning of anticipation as Charlotte bit her bottom lip as if figuring out the answer to some very complicated question. They’re close, closer than Isabella had realized, it would only take one of them to lean forward just a little and they would be touching. 

 

Isabella shakes her head and smiles softly. “Shall we begin?” 

 

Charlotte blushes prettily and averts her gaze. “I suppose we best.”

 

Isabella moves behind the desk and nods toward the chair on the other side. “Please.” 

 

Charlotte sits, leaning forward to watch Isabella as she gathers papers and a quill. “Do we need a witness?”

 

Isabella shakes her head. “It’s an informal agreement for now, but we can introduce a third party if we feel it’s needed.” 

 

Charlotte nods carefully. “So what did you have in mind?” 

 

Isabella sighs and shuffles back in her chair, cursing the width of her stays making the seat so uncomfortable. “Well, I thought your current rent was high for the area. Your previous landlord must have charged you extra for the nature of your business.” 

 

Charlotte smirks. “You’re allowed to say brothel.” 

 

Isabella rolls her eyes good-naturedly and ignores the comment. “What do you feel is a fair price?” 

 

Charlotte looks taken aback. “What do  _ I  _ feel?” 

 

Isabella smiles. “Yes, well that is why you’re here is it not?” 

 

Charlotte nods, distracted by some invisible thoughts. she takes a steadying breath and smiles, aware of Isabella watching her with interest. “I think you should charge the same rent as you plan to charge the other buildings.”

 

“Would you be offended if I charged you less?” It had been Isabella’s intention to maintain a level of passivity while discussing the business, to allow Charlotte to take the lead. Yet it seems that Charlotte wasn’t her typical forward self, making Isabella guess.

 

Charlotte laughs, a glorious melodic sound, and Isabella feels a little silly. “Well, I suppose there are worse things you could do.” 

 

Isabella looks down, dipping the quill in the ink and beginning to write. “Perhaps I shall then, within reason of course.”

 

Charlotte grins at her and Isabella feels a thunder of butterflies stirring in her stomach. “Of course.”

 

“I had thought that, should you be unable to pay, there could be some kind of arrangement.” Isabella begins.

 

“Why do you think we would be unable to pay?” Charlotte’s question is pointed, interrupting Isabella’s train of thought.

 

“I don’t know.” Isabella pauses writing and casts a pensive glance around the room before settling back onto Charlotte. “I suppose if there were to be an accident of some sort which affected the business, or you ran into some issue with the law that demanded a large number of funds. I can imagine running a brothel is a costly and irregular endeavor.” 

 

Charlotte is quiet a moment, watching her as if inspecting her every word. She lets out a slow exhale and Isabella’s heart freezes a moment, scared she had offended once more. “What kind of arrangement?” 

 

Isabella relaxes slightly. “A week or two for you or a member of your family to visit me and arrange either a reduced sum or a delayed payment, or in a dire circumstance I could clear the debt.” 

 

Charlotte nods. “And you would know any of my family on sight?” 

 

Isabella smiles. “Mr North and Miss Birch certainly. There’s young Jacob, of course, but I doubt he would be involved in such affairs until he is much older. I am not quite familiar with your sister, Lucy,  but I am sure once introduced I can commit her face to my memory as well.” 

 

Charlotte looks at her curiously, the same kind of open attention she had regarded her with the night Isabella had shared her secret. Isabella wonders if she’s impressed or underwhelmed at her knowledge of the Wells family. “I’m sure that can be arranged.” 

 

Isabella continues to write as Charlotte watches, eyes following every curve and dip of the quill, fixating upon her hands. Isabella’s penmanship suffers a little under the close examination, but she focuses her energy on keeping steady. 

 

“What about the building itself? Who pays if it becomes damaged?” Isabella looks up at Charlotte’s question, she had no idea what was the norm in such an agreement. 

 

“If the problem is in the structure, or if it impairs your ability to live and work healthily then the money can come out of your rent payment. If it is aesthetic or non-essential then you can pay yourselves.” Isabella wonders if Charlotte could tell she was making it up as she went along, but Charlotte simply nods with interest. 

 

“What about issues that were there before you bought the building? Do you count yourself responsible for those too?” 

 

Isabella pauses a moment, trying to remember whether there was any obvious damage to the building while she had stayed there. “Perhaps? I may need to see it.”

 

Charlotte stands from her chair and walks around to Isabella’s side of the desk, a sultry look in her eyes that took Isabella’s breath away. She leans against the desk, careful not to disturb the papers, the side of her leg brushing against Isabella’s knee. “What would people say? A Lady like yourself frequenting a Greek Street brothel?”

 

Isabella doesn’t break the intensity of her gaze. “I suppose people will have said all they had to say when I stayed there before. Besides, I think my fellow courtiers have had quite enough of me now they know about Sophia.”

 

Isabella puts the quill aside and moves closer to Charlotte, leaning into the touch. Charlotte looks at her so intently that Isabella wonders if she is trying to read her soul. “I need to know I can trust you.” She murmurs, reaching for Isabella’s hand. 

 

“The world will fall apart before I betray you again.” Isabella links their hands together, fingers interlocked. “I swear I will do everything in my power to protect your family as if they are my own.” 

 

Charlotte takes a deep shuddery breath, tears beginning to form in her eyes, fixing Isabella a watery smile. “Can we get that in writing.” 

 

Isabella laughs softly and stands, cupping Charlotte’s face with her free hand. “Anything you need.” 

 

Charlotte searches her eyes for a moment, trying to catch any dishonesty. Isabella tucks a stray curl behind her ear and waits patiently, allowing Charlotte all the time she needs. Isabella can hardly believe she is allowed to be with Charlotte like this, that the rage Charlotte had felt had softened so much. The thought gives Isabella pause, the turnaround had been so abrupt it felt surreal. As if this were some cruel dream. Charlotte seems to sense her confusion. “What troubles you?” 

 

Isabella hesitates, choosing her words carefully. “Please, my dear, do not mistake this for judgment.” She sighs and moves her hand from Charlotte’s face, resting it on her shoulder in a way which she hoped was reassuring. “But please know that I will give you whatever you desire without question or expectation. You do not need to offer me anything in return.” 

 

The warm sparkle in Charlotte’s eyes dims a little, her face turns more serious and Isabella curses herself for saying anything at all. Charlotte leans forward, threading her fingers through the baby hairs at the back of Isabella’s neck, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. Isabella’s heart soars, thumping against her chest as she focused on the feeling of it all. The soft press of her lips, the distant taste of wine, the almost inaudible hum of satisfaction Charlotte makes when Isabella pulls her closer by her hip. Charlotte kisses with a gentle intensity that almost makes Isabella want to cry. 

 

Charlotte pulls back, smiling softly, bringing their entwined hands up between their lips and kissing Isabella’s knuckles with a reverence that almost feels like worship. “I have missed you.” 

 

Isabella closes her eyes for a second, drinking the moment in as if it were her salvation. “I missed you too. I didn’t think it possible to need a person so much until I had lost you.” 

 

Charlotte kisses her chastely, pulling back before Isabella can chase her lips. “Do not ask me what I will want tomorrow. But right now I want you.” 

 

Isabella doesn’t need to be told twice, she surges forward, kissing Charlotte with a desperation that could never be pure lust. Charlotte responds with equal passion hoisting herself onto the desk and pulling Isabella between her legs, her tongue parting Isabella’s lips just enough to make her moan softly into her mouth. It was heaven and hell, a torturous euphoria, to have Charlotte so close with all these clothes between them. Isabella cursed every wretched layer. 

 

Charlotte pulls back, away from Isabella’s lips, to pepper hot kisses along her jaw. Isabella screws her eyes shut, letting go of Charlotte’s hand to claw at the wood of the desk. Her corset began to feel like a cage against her heaving chest, the layers of silk between them too much to bear. She pulls away a little, pulling Charlotte up into a soothing kiss. 

 

“May we take this upstairs? Sophia will be home any moment.” Isabella murmurs, stroking Charlotte's face affectionately.

 

“As you wish my love.” Charlotte looks at her through hooded eyes and Isabella feels a low stirring in her belly at the sight. 

 

Perhaps dreams really do come true. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY LOVE??? Charlotte ur so gay 
> 
> in the comments is Charlotte:   
> A) manipulating Isabella for something else (the deed maybe???)  
> B) sleeping with Isabella because she's impulsive and she still thinks Lady Fitz is a Fit Lady  
> C) ready to forgive Isabella and move forward
> 
> PS: I've been calling Greek Street, Queen Street because I'm an idiot, will update and change that soon  
> (also two updates in less than 24 hours, thank god for boring bank holidays)   
> (also the next chapter is going to take longer bc i have to be in the right mood to write smut, but it will come!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuck
> 
> Charlottes POV
> 
> not super explicit but definitely NSFW

The walk to the bedroom was quiet if it weren’t for Isabella holding her hand Charlotte was sure she would have been lost. The corridor was long and narrow, identically ornate doors providing no clear indication of what was inside. It was an unnerving house, reminiscent of Lord Repton’s country manor of horrors, filled with antiquities and foreign artifacts that Charlotte couldn’t name. 

 

Isabella pauses in front of a door turning back to Charlotte with an apprehensive expression. “If you are unsure at all, please tell me now.” 

 

Charlotte laughs and kisses Isabella soundly, the eerie furnishings forgotten in favor of pushing Isabella up against the closed door. “I’m the harlot here, I should be asking you.” 

 

Isabella smiles and looks away sheepishly. “Forgive me.” 

 

The apology both endears and frustrates Charlotte tremendously. This would all be an awful lot easier if Isabella would stop being so kind. Charlotte kisses her again, hands in the dip of her corseted waist, focusing on the feeling of Isabella’s lips against her own to distract herself from the growing knot in her stomach. 

  
  


Isabella opens the door behind her without breaking the kiss and they almost fall inside the room, stumbling together like drunkards in the street.  Charlotte kicks the door shut begin them, almost immediately busying herself with the lacing at the back of Isabella’s dress. She quickly becomes frustrated with the task, cursing Isabella’s completely unnecessary state of dress. She spins her around, almost roughly, causing Isabella to squeal a little in shock. Charlotte kisses the exposed slope of her shoulders to appease her, delighting in the soft gasps she elicits. The lacing is far easier to manage at this angle, Charlotte makes quick work of removing the dress and the corset beneath, pressing a delicate kiss at the back of Isabella’s neck once she is done. 

 

Isabella spins back around, pulling Charlotte into a passionate kiss. Charlotte knows Isabella will struggle to remove Charlotte’s own garments so she sets about doing it herself. Isabella seems intent on making the job harder, however, dropping to Charlotte’s neck to press hot kisses upon the column of her neck. Once the lacing is undone, Isabelle helps her lift her dress over her head, breaking apart just enough for the fabric to pass between them. Charlotte pulls Isabella up to kiss her lips once, twice, before pushing her backward onto the bed. Charlotte stands above her a moment, soaking in the image; Isabella flushed and gasping, dressed only in her chemise and garters, her wig beginning to come loose upon her head. Charlotte began to unlace her corset as she watched Isabella remove the offending hairpiece, allowing her black curls to fall naturally about her shoulders. Charlotte couldn’t help but adore Isabella like this, natural and free, it was so easy to forget all that had passed between them. 

 

Isabella shuffles backward a little on the bed expectantly as Charlotte removes her corset. Charlotte crawls onto the bed, toward Isabella, she catches the bottom of the skirt of Isabella’s chemise and tugs it upwards with her, pressing kisses upon her knees and the tops of her thighs as she goes. Isabella lifts her hips to aid its removal, giggling as Charlotte presses a ticklish kiss upon her belly as she pulls the garment over her shoulders and throws it to the floor.

 

Charlotte sits back on her knees between Isabella’s legs, eyes darkening at the sight of Isabella in nothing but her garters. It stuns Charlotte that in their previous night together, she hadn’t been able to fully enjoy the sheer beauty of Isabella’s body. Charlotte had been so focused on the act itself, on giving Isabella as much pleasure as possible, that in the process she had barely allowed herself the time to fully appreciate her. 

 

Charlotte had seen plenty of naked bodies in her time, male and female, she had long thought that she was immune to awe or shock at such a thing. Yet Isabella was like no one she had ever seen before, every inch of her inspired awe. From her impossibly long legs to the pale scars of stretch marks on her hips, to the swell of her breasts (fuller than Charlotte’s), to the elegant slope of her shoulders; Charlotte wanted to devour it all. 

 

Isabella shifts to lift Charlotte's chemise off, looking at her with a mixture of uncertainty and desire. Charlotte helps her lift the dress off her shoulders and gives her best sultry look. Isabella stares at her body like she’s a fine feast and Charlotte feels an entirely unwelcome rush of pride and affection at the reaction.

 

Charlotte leans forward to kiss Isabella with an unnamed fury, threading her fingers through her hair. Isabella gasps into her mouth, thrusting her hips upward into Charlotte's abdomen in an attempt to find some relief. The act is so primal, so base for the distinguished woman who had blushed when asking Her to stay for dinner that Charlotte could have laughed. Yet when Isabella pushed a thigh between her own, laughter was the furthest thing from Charlotte's mind.

 

It was as if her whole mind had shut but for the aching heat between her legs, they fell into a tandem, thrusting into each other as if it were their only salvation. The act was new to Charlotte, her previous experience with women was limited and (with the exception of Isabella) far from romantic. It’s both overwhelmingly intimate and frustrating at once, the mixture between intermittent pressure and Isabella’s breathy moans working Charlotte up into an almost animalistic frenzy.

 

Charlotte pulls at Isabella’s hair, forcing her back to arch so that their chests touch. They both groan at the sensation, Isabella reaching round to find purchase on Charlotte's backside to bring her down on a particularly hard thrust.

 

Charlotte can feel herself hurtling toward a cliff's edge all too quickly. She stops, pulling away, a steadying hand on Isabella’s chest to keep her from following her up. Charlotte's body screams at the lack of contact, she takes a steadying breath and looks to the ceiling to calm herself.

 

“Is everything alright?” Isabella’s voice is low and husky in her arousal, but there can be no mistaking her concern. She looks up at Charlotte, her sapphire eyes almost as dark and as big as the night sky.

 

Charlotte smiles at her, flushed and genuine, tapping her fingers against her rib cage affectionately. “Of course, just didn’t want to be done so quick.” She leans back down and kisses her, trying her best to calm her racing heart. “I’d hate to finish before you.”

 

Isabella looks at her and grins, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as if she’s the most precious thing she’s ever seen. “I wasn’t far behind, my dear.”

 

Charlotte raises a brow and sits back up, biting her lip as if deep in thought. “I suppose we ought to do something about that then.”

 

Charlotte pulls Isabella’s legs apart a little roughly, sure to keep eye contact with her in case she inadvertently crossed into traumatic territory. Isabella merely looks at her with the lustiest eyes Charlotte thinks she has ever seen. A feat which, given her profession, was surely worth some kind of trophy.

 

Charlotte settles herself between Isabella’s legs, shuffling down the bed until her face was met with her center. Isabella moans and weaves her fingers through Charlotte’s hair, already so needy for the attention. Charlotte wastes no time in answering the silent demand, kissing Isabella’s swollen cunt as if it were a delicate flower. 

 

The touch is too light and Charlotte knows it, but this is what she relishes when laying with women. Men were fun to tease but too easily excitable, it was hard enough to keep them going as it was, she didn’t need them any more worked up. Women, however, were such fun to tease and torment, it was almost a game to work a woman up until they knew no sense of decorum, only their cunt and Charlottes eager mouth. Isabella seems to relish it too, moaning louder each time Charlotte brings her toward the edge, only to provide only the lightest touches to bring her back down.

 

And how beautiful a sight to see the Lady Isabella brought to such a state. Charlotte wished there was some way to burn this image into her mind, save it for those nights when there was a need in her that no hapless cull could satisfy. 

 

Isabella seems to be growing impatient, thrusting against Charlotte’s face every time she gets close. Charlotte worries she may start crying if she’s denied her release once more.

 

The orgasm will be intense, Isabella is so tensed up and sensitive by now that Charlotte is sure she will cry am I matter what the outcome. Charlotte reaches out to grasp at Isabella’s hand as it claws into the sheets, she entwines their fingers in a vice-like grip. Isabella hurtles toward the edge and Charlotte doesn’t stop her, merely increasing the speed and intensity of her touches to peak at the same time.

 

Isabella moans so loudly when she comes that Charlotte is sure the whole house must have heard. Charlotte continues her ministrations just long enough to bring her down, thumb swiping across Isabella’s wrist in an effort to offer comfort. Charlotte waits until the grip on her hair has loosened and crawls up Isabella’s body, peppering soft kisses as she goes, until they are face to face. Isabella’s eyes are still shut, but her face is relaxed and peaceful, Charlotte wonders for a moment if she has fallen asleep. Charlotte licks her lips, savoring the taste, and considers whether it would be poor etiquette to get herself off on Isabella’s thigh as she sleeps. She’s so wound up it would likely only take a few thrusts. 

 

Isabella’s hand touches her hip, breaking her out of her thoughts, she opens her eyes just a little with a very satisfied smile. “Are you intent on killing me?” 

 

Isabella’s voice is barely above a whisper, it’s so adorable that Charlotte can’t help but kiss her. “I’m trying my best.” 

 

Isabella pulls her back into a passionate kiss, moaning softly at the taste of herself on Charlotte's lips, her hand drops from Charlotte’s hips to the inside of her thigh. Charlotte gasps at the movement, opening her legs so that Isabella can access her more easily. She buries her head in the crook of Isabella’s neck, too overwhelmed to do anything but groan and gasp, thrusting her hips to match Isabella’s movements as she enters her. It does not take long for her to reach the edge and Isabella, always merciful, remains firm and steady in her movements. “Isabella!”

 

The name comes tumbling from her lips as she’s catapulted into her climax, clutching Isabella with all of her might. Isabella strokes Charlotte’s back with her free hand, coaxing her down from her high. Charlotte slumps back into Isabella’s body as soon as the hand is gone between her legs, Isabella holds her close and presses a comforting kiss upon her forehead. 

 

A moment passes as they catch their breath. Charlotte feels a type of peace she had never felt before, the idea scares her far more than it should. Isabella sits up after a moment, removing her own garters and then Charlotte’s, pulling the covers over them. Charlotte doesn’t even try to curl back into Isabella, her body moves of its own accord, seeking Isabella’s body in the darkness. 

 

Somewhere beyond the tiredness and the comfort, a wave of panic begins to rise within Charlotte. She pushes the feeling down, for now, allows herself the idea that she is safe and warm and loved by another person. 

 

There are worse things to feel.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte's motivations aren't super clear in this so sorry if anyone was desperate for an answer to last times question.   
> All will be revealed, within the next couple of chapters.   
> I might have to go ahead and tag this as a slow-burn.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Also, thank you for the great comments, I couldn't write anywhere near as fast as I do without the feedback.   
> Next chapter should be updated this weekend!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> did someone say angst?

Isabella wakes to an empty bed. 

 

She glances around the room, bathed in the morning sun, there are no traces of Charlotte’s clothes anywhere to be seen. A horrible twisting feeling begins to stir within her. 

 

She gets up as quickly as she dares, throwing on a chemise so as not to traumatize her daughter or her servants as she leaves her room. She checks the parlor first, then the dining room in case Charlotte had merely decided to wait for her downstairs. Surely she would not have left the house entirely without even so much as a note. 

 

Perhaps, Isabella thinks, Charlotte may have left her a note in the study where the ink and paper were kept. Isabella glances at the time, it was barely even seven o’clock, there was no way Charlotte would have left so early with no goodbye. 

 

The night had been so beautiful, she had never felt so desired by another person before. Charlotte couldn’t have regarded Isabella with such intimacy and then disappear a few hours later. No matter her anger at Isabella’s actions, she simply wasn’t that cruel.

 

Isabella enters the study and glances around. There’s nothing on the desk. 

 

The tenancy agreement is gone. 

 

Isabella feels a wave of nausea and betrayal. Charlotte had bedded her to make sure she didn’t change her mind about the agreement. Isabella feels sick at the thought, furious at herself for thinking it could ever have been real, now Charlotte has all she could have wanted and had no use for her. Harcourt’s sneering voice echoes in her head, she should have known better. 

 

Xxx

 

By the time Charlotte reaches Greek Street, she’s already regretting the decision. The guilt settles in her bones with each step. 

 

Nancy is going to kill her. 

 

There was no reason to fuck Isabella, no matter how much Charlotte wanted there to be, Isabella would have given her all that she had wanted from the agreement even if Charlotte had treated her with contempt all night. But Isabella had been so eager to please, so devoted to Charlotte’s every word and so beautiful as she had tried to keep her composure that Charlotte could only think of the things that had attracted her in the first place. Charlotte had pushed down her anger and saw the Isabella who she had thought she could fall in love with. 

 

Her anger could not be set aside for long, however much she wished she could simply push it aside. By the time morning had arrived all Charlotte could think was how stupid she was, falling right into Isabella’s trap. She had lost control somewhere during the night, let herself be seduced by Isabella’s generosity. She had known when Isabella offered to by Greek Street it was a ploy to win her back and Charlotte had fallen hook, line, and sinker. 

 

Charlotte was supposed to be the expert in seduction, it shouldn’t be possible to lose to a woman who had never seduced someone in her life. 

 

Charlotte tries to enter the brothel as quietly as possible, the morning culls not arriving for another hour or so. She creeps through the corridor as quietly as she can, knowing her Pa was likely already up with Jacob. She enters the office and shuts the door quickly behind her, placing the tenancy agreement carefully on the desk before slumping down on the chair in half exhaustion. 

 

There’s a knock on the door and Charlotte wishes she could get just a few moments peace in her life.

 

The door opens and Lucy gingerly steps into the room, a bowl of porridge in her hands.

 

“We guessed you hadn’t eaten since you’re back so early.” Lucy’s voice holds no judgement, Charlotte sort of wants to cry.

 

Charlotte considers making Lucy leave the porridge and leave her alone. “Gimme that.” 

 

Lucy sits by her, passing the bowl before Charlotte can protest. She looks at the agreement on the desk, tilting it so she can read it. “I can’t believe you got Lady Fitz to sign this.” 

 

Charlotte shrugs and eats a spoonful of porridge as Lucy reads. “Wasn’t hard.”

 

Lucy puts the paper down and shuffles round to look at Charlotte, an inquisitive arch to her brow. “Did she pay you for the night and all?”

 

Charlotte sighs and looks down. “It wasn’t like that, Sprat.”

 

Lucy nods. “She wouldn’t sign until you fucked her?”

 

Charlotte shakes her head. “She’d already signed it.”

 

Lucy looks at her, confused. Lucy had been with Fallon when Isabella had stayed with them, had only seen Charlotte’s anger and betrayal and none of her warmth and affection for Isabella. Charlotte knew Lucy wouldn’t understand why she would spend the night with a woman she claimed to hate. 

 

Charlotte sighs and puts the bowl down, turning to face Lucy properly. “She managed to make me think that I just wanted to.”

 

Lucy gives her a quizzical look. “How?”

 

Charlotte shrugs. “Well I got there and she was full of talking about wanting to help me and my family, offering the world for us. She looked at me like,” Charlotte pauses and shakes the thought from her head. “Never mind.”

 

Lucy shuffles forward, interested, Charlotte is reminded for a moment of how intently Lucy had listened to her bedtime stories when she was a child. “Looked at you like what?”

 

Charlotte wishes she could lie. “She looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered to her. Like I’d hung the moon and the stars for her.” 

 

Lucy looks at her as if she just described the dreamiest thing in the world. “And that’s a bad thing?”

 

Charlotte shakes her head. “It wouldn’t be bad if it were true. But if she cared that much she’d never have betrayed us for that wretch of a brother of hers.” 

 

Lucy twists her mouth as if pondering the thought. “Maybe she wants to make it up to you?”

 

Charlotte shakes her head resolutely. “No, her actions could have had us all killed. Come on Sprat, you more than anyone knows the danger Fallon could have brought to us when he was freed.”

 

“But we did not die. Fallon did. We lost his confession but we were safe.” Lucy places a hand on Charlotte’s knee. “You can’t sit in this anger forever because of what may have happened.”

 

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “The issue is that she was willing to take the risk. I can’t trust her not to let me down again when things get tight.” 

 

Lucy looks back down at the agreement. “It looks to me that she’s pretty invested in not letting you down again. People who don’t care about you don’t buy a whole street, giving you full control of your tenancy, just so that you have some security.”  Lucy straightens her back and looks at Charlotte like a stern governess. “Seems to me that if she wished to cause you harm then she could have used the tenancy to keep you.” 

 

Charlotte shrugs. “She may as well have. In fact, I’d rather she were just honest and tell me bought this place to get me back in her bed, at least then there’s be some choice.” 

 

Lucy looks at her incredulously. “The woman is devoted to you, Charlotte. She is not trying to deceive you into bedding her, she was willing to give you all this for nothing!” 

 

“I still have to keep her favor, I might as well be her whore on standby.” Charlotte huffs and for a moment Lucy swears she must somehow be the older sibling. 

 

“She’s not a man! She wants to be romanced, or at least romance you!” Lucy slaps Charlotte’s knee playfully. “You have an honorable Lady with a sizable fortune who you  _ clearly _ fancy offering you a better life for all of us. Don’t fuck it up with thinking!” 

 

Charlotte looks at her like she’s grown another head. “I do  _ not  _ fancy Lady Fitz.” 

Lucy rolls her eyes and points to charlotte’s neck, deep purple love bites peeping out from the collar of her dress. “You don’t let just anyone mark you like that, you had to be pretty into it.” 

 

Charlotte shakes her head and looks to the ceiling in exasperation. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

 

Lucy tilts her head and looks at her disbelievingly. “How so?”

 

“Because it's complicated! I’m not a girl looking to be courted! I’m a bawd!” Charlotte pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.

 

“Ma was a bawd! She still managed to trust our Pa!”

 

“Pa didn’t betray her trust though! He stood by her, he still does all he can for her and for us!” Charlotte snaps.

 

Lucy twists her mouth in annoyance and taps the agreement on the desk. “That looks like Isabella doing all she can too.”

 

Lucy begins to stand and Charlotte slumps. “I’m sorry Sprat.”

 

Lucy shakes her head. “If you can’t find peace with whatever arrangement you have with Lady Fitz then you’ve got to sort it out.  Because you cannot continue in this anger.”

 

Charlotte nods sheepishly and reaches to touch Lucy’s wrist in gentle apology. “You’re right.”

 

Lucy prods her shoulder playfully. “Go to her and  _ be honest _ . “  Charlotte nods and smiles warmly at her, grateful for her perspective. Lucy pauses at the door as she leaves. “If you don’t then you will regret it.”

 

Charlotte sighs into the empty room, even more confused than before. Lucy was right in many ways; Isabella had not shown herself to be cruel or controlling, she did truly seem to want to make amends and she likely had very real feelings for Charlotte. However, there was a very real possibility that Isabella may betray them again, no matter how many promises she makes. Losing Fallon for Isabella’s pragmatism has been one thing, Charlotte could not lose the whole house because of her.

 

Charlotte’s complicated feelings toward Isabella didn’t help matters. There was no doubt Charlotte was still very attracted to Isabella, she is only human after all, and there was a large part of her that cared deeply for her.  But how could Charlotte simply forget about the anger that still bubbled up inside her when she thought of Isabella in her fancy dress, in her fancy house that was gained at the expense of Charlotte’s trust. It felt as if Isabella had no understanding of the risks that Charlotte and her family had faced for her as if Isabella could only think in terms of her own safety and security. Charlotte didn’t make a habit of trusting people she could not rely upon, no matter how much her heart may flutter at the sight of them. 

 

Then again, Charlotte also didn’t intend on letting her personal feelings get in the way of an agreement which truly did give Charlotte the financial security that would allow them some breathing space. Isabella’s offer would ensure that if more tragedy should fall upon them, the rent at least would be one less thing to worry about. Regardless of how Charlotte feels about Isabella, the agreement would be the best gift the house could receive.   

 

Charlotte held her head in her hands, vision dizzying with stress. How could she possibly move forward whilst Isabella is in her life? How could she reject Isabella’s generosity when she was offering the closest thing to a safety net that Charlotte could wish for?

 

Perhaps Lucy was right, the only way forward was to speak with Isabella honestly. It was time to take control. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was pretty hard to write, its mostly just a filler to keep the plot rolling.   
> Honestly, I'm struggling to keep the momentum on this so I'm going to be taking prompts for the next week to keep me in the zone while I figure out where this is going. Hit me up @ time-to-girl-the-hell-up on Tumblr for prompts. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments, if anyone has any ideas for continuing this please let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> I have plans to turn this into a wider story since I think it's unlikely there will be a S3 and there's still so much to get out of these two. Please comment and leave kudos if you liked it, it's so encouraging when i'm trying to work through chapters.  
> Thank you for reading!


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